Three Years Later
by angel6.d
Summary: It’s been three years, and these two are more in love than ever, but will they have their happily ever after? Especially now that Hermione's having second thoughts. [Post DH, RonHermione] Part 2 up!
1. The Proposal

**Title: **Three Years Later

**Pairing: **Ron/Hermione

**Rating: **T for suggestive themes and language

**Summary: **It's been three years, and these two are more in love than ever, but will they have their happily ever after?

**Disclaimer: **I solemnly swear I am not JK Rowling.

**AN:** This is going to be a three-part story. I've already got everything planned; it's just a matter of writing up the next two parts, however, it could be a stand-alone story. So let me know what you think I should do. Well, happy reading!

* * *

It was a quiet Sunday morning in the Granger/Weasley household, well in most of household anyway. Giggles and moans could be heard, piercing the still, peacefulness that had come accustomed to re-settling itself in the house.

Inside the Master bedroom, Hermione and Ron lay in bed, with Ron hovering above Hermione, leaning on his elbows, as his lips tortured her with their sweet kisses.

She shrieked with laughter and protests however, as Ron's hand innocently slid down her side, only to, seconds later begin a different kind of torture: Tickling.

"Ron stop!" she laughed, writhing around on the bed, pushing the pillows to the floor, and pulling the sheets this way and that. "I mean it…" she said, as she attempted to shoot him a stern look, which only made him smile, and continue on.

A minute or so had passed now, and he decided to finally listen to his girlfriend, of now, three years, although it felt like much more, and stop.

Her laughter stopped moments later, as she began to try to get her breathing back under control. Her hand was holding on to her side: "It hurts, it's your fault… perhaps you can make it better?" She said, flirtatiously.

He looked over at her, from his position on the bed. Currently, he was lying back on the pillows he picked up from the floor, hands folded behind his head, eyes looking up at the ceiling.

He was smiling now. "Nah, I'm hungry," Laughing at her shocked look. "Relax, I'm only joking." He said grinning at her cheekily. Slowly, he leaned over to press feather-light kisses over the offended area, trailing down onto the skin on her waist. She giggled as she pulled his head up to hers, giggling these days, was something she was prone to doing, despite it being, very un-Hermione-like.

She liked the effect he had on her, and the effect she had on him. It was an interesting feeling to know that you could make someone go crazy with just one touch or one kiss. It made her feel things she never imagined she could, or would ever feel, it made her feel good though, special, wanted, needed, loved, it was a great feeling.

He pulled back slowly, sucking in a deep breath as his lungs and his brain battled his heart and the fire in his stomach region, albeit a little lower – he was only human after all, for air.

She snuggled up against his side, tracing different things over his bare chest. She seemed to like doing that. But right now, it wasn't helping his little, or perhaps that was a bit of an understatement, but still, it was in fact quite the predicament he was in now. He glanced back down at the girl his arm was wrapped around, pulling her that much closer to him, memorizing the perfect feeling of her against him. It never ceased to amaze him how perfectly she fit in his arms, how it seemed the curves of her body seemed to be made to fit perfectly against his body.

He turned his head ever so slightly to cast a nervous glance at his nightstand. Hidden in the very back of the drawer, in one of his oldest socks, was a little velvet box, one that would change his, or rather, _their_ lives forever.

He felt her place a gentle guiding hand on his cheek, turning his head back in her direction. Blue met brown as he eyed the mischievous look in her eyes.

Years of knowledge and well, practice, if truth be told, told him immediately, he was bound to be tired and possibly sore after this.

* * *

It was quite a while later, when they finally fell back, onto the soft mattress, as Ron pulled a fallen sheet around them. 

Their chests were rising and falling rapidly, as the two slowly began to regain their breaths and normal heartbeats.

"You're going to be the death of me woman," Ron told her, a worried look dawning on his freckled face.

Hermione laughed, turning on her side to face him, as he turned his head to face her. "Well, either that, or you'll choke one day while you're stuffing your cheeks full of food, like a squirrel. Although, I must admit you're not _quite _as hairy, or cute even as a squirrel." She told him, laughing even harder at his appalled expression.

"Well, it looks like _this_ squirrel isn't making breakfast for _someone_." He told her, looking turning his head to look pointedly at her when he said, 'someone.'

She simply laughed again as she cuddled into him, nibbling affectionately on his ear.

'_Damn her,' _he thought bitterly to himself, fighting the moan that was threatening to roll off the tip of his tongue. He didn't want to give her the satisfaction of being able to have her way with him, especially after being compared to a squirrel, and _losing_, joke or not. Comparing a man, to a squirrel, a small, fuzzy little creature, who could hardly do much more that scamper around, and possibly scare of few people, it was wounding to a mans _sensitive_ ego.

Then she moved to that _bloody_ spot, behind his _bloody_ ear. _'I hate you,' _he thought inwardly, as the moan he'd been fighting back escaped his lips, and promptly she removed hers, grinning innocently up at him.

He scowled.

"You were saying something about breakfast?" She said innocently, lying back on the bed as if nothing at all had happened.

His scowl changed to a grin as he looked at her, lying back, eyes momentarily closed as she moved a little bit closer to him. He simply wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer.

This was nice. Waking up to her every morning, it was nice.

Again, he shot a nervous glance towards the drawer that held a sparkly, expensive, but absolutely beautiful ring.

Harry, Ginny, _and_ Hermione's parents had assured him that she, Hermione was bound to say, 'yes.' They'd told him that she loved him, they knew she did, and that there was nothing to fret about. But hearing those words from their mouths, and actually hearing those words from Hermione's mouth, was, in his mind, two entirely different things.

"Ron, are you alright?" She asked, concerned as she felt him stiffen beside her. "Ron?"

He coughed softly, nodding his head in reply. Well, it was half-true, he was alright, but he'd be even better once he'd proposed to her, and knew whether or not he'd be spending the rest of his life waking up beside this beautiful brunette, with the impossible hair, who was undoubtedly the biggest know-it-all he knew. _But_, he reasoned with an inward smile, as he looked over at her, she was his, right?

The silence the rest of the house held, had quietly crept into the bedroom, and set its spell, momentarily anyway.

"What are you thinking about?" Hermione asked him, stroking his cheek, her forehead creasing slightly as she looked at him, his sudden change in demeanor worrying her.

It was a few seconds before he opened his mouth, but the words just wouldn't come, noticing this, she continued on, with another question.

"Do you ever think about the future?"

This time, he found his voice. "'Course I do, all the time? Don't you?"

She nodded.

"Why?" He asked, curious at the reason she'd brought up the question.

She shrugged her shoulders.

He knew there was something she wasn't saying, Hermione Granger _didn't_ bring up a topic without having something to say about it. Right now though, he just didn't feel like pushing her to figure it out. He'd talk to her about it, when the time was right, when she was ready.

"What do you say, you hop in the shower, and I'll go get breakfast started?" He asked her, rubbing up and down her arm, doing a complete 360 on the conversation.

She nodded again, as he left the room, and went down to the kitchen to begin breakfast.

* * *

Now, it was about 11 in the evening, and they were out on the patio, the remnants of their dinner sat on the table, undisturbed as they sat on the swinging bench, swinging slowly, back and forth. The benches' power was fueled by the temperate breeze, pushing the cushioned bench ever so kindly, blanketing everything in its path with its refreshing breeze. 

Ron's head was lying comfortably in Hermione's lap as they stared up at the sky, enjoying the peacefulness the night brought.

Ron was thinking about the velvet box that now resided in his pocket, whilst Hermione was thinking about what a beautiful night it was tonight.

'_It's now of never, pluck up that Gryffindor courage, be a man!' _He silently told himself, replaying the same words over and over again in his head, right now, it was his mantra.

He took a short breath, before he began, taking her hand in his own, holding it to his chest, playing her with fingers anxiously. "Do you know what I think when I think about the future?" He asked her.

"Lunch?" she quipped, smiling down at him, raking her free hand little by little, tenderly through his luscious, crimson locks.

He glared up at her, not _everything _revolved around his bleeding belly. At least he didn't think so. "_No_, shockingly, that's not exactly what I had in mind." He told her, looking up at the sky for a moment, taking in the bright contrast the stars and the moon had on the black backdrop that was the night sky.

She smiled at him again, and it was all the encouragement he needed to continue on.

"I think about _us_. I think about whether we'll still be together or not, still be happy with each other." He told her, countless number of emotions he was feeling, swimming within pools of sapphire that was his eyes, meeting her now very serious eyes.

"What are you saying?" She asked him, suddenly edgy herself.

"I'm saying that I love you Hermione Granger. I'm saying that I don't want to wonder about what'll happen tomorrow, about whether you'll still be here or not, we all had our fair share of worrying many years ago… I'm saying that I need you…" At this point, he was sitting up, his body turned to face hers, as she sat, ramrod straight in her seat both hands now folded neatly in her lap. Her eyes unblinking, focused as she hung on to his every word, as though, waiting for the catch. "And now, I'm _asking _you… will you do me the honor of marrying me?" He asked, feeling more nervous than he'd felt when he'd sat his O.W.L's. His heart momentarily seemed to stop beating its steady beat in his chest, as he dropped onto his knee before her, pulling the black box out of his pocket, and flipping it open. His cheeks and his hair could've very well been undistinguishable at that moment, as a deep scarlet crept onto his cheeks.

Her eyes were filled with tears, and he didn't know whether or not to take this as a good or a bad thing.

She sat there, staring at him, eyes wide, brimming with unshed tears, seemingly speechless.

To him, it had seemed like an eternity before she finally nodded her head, as she threw her arms around his neck, knocking him flat on his back.

It felt like the weight the size of a hippogriff and Fluffy combined seemed to just fall away, lost in the darkness of the night.

She kissed his neck softly, pulling back slightly to kiss him full on the lips.

Slowly, he sat them upright, never breaking the kiss. It was their first kiss as an engaged couple, it was a beautiful kiss. It was passionate, loving, soft, slow, everything that could, honestly be used to describe their relationship.

"I love you," she breathed her forehead resting against his, as they finally lost their battle with their lungs and were forced to pull away.

He positively beamed up at her, as he pulled the ring out of the box, and slipped it onto her left hand.

A perfect fit.

**

* * *

AN: **Well, here I am, yet again, jabbering away. It's currently 12:30 in the wee hours of the morning, and in the past couple of days, I've gotten at most, about 8 hours of sleep, combined, so I apologize sincerely if this is complete and utter garbage. I'm wondering if Ron and Hermione are a little OOC, if they are, I apologize, it just sort of came out that way. 

Anyways please review, I'd love to hear your thoughts, and opinions. Thanks so much for reading!

**-angel6**


	2. The Fire

**Title: **Three Years Later

**Pairing: **Ron/Hermione

**Rating: **T for suggestive themes and language

**Summary: **It's been three years, and these two are more in love than ever, but will they have their happily ever after?

**Disclaimer: **According to a brilliant team of scientists, the latest study shows, that I am in fact, not J.K Rowling, and to top it off, I never will be. Sad, don't you think?

**AN: **Thank you to all of you who reviewed the last chapter, I appreciate it! This is the second part of my three-part story. Hopefully you'll all enjoy it!

* * *

"Everything alright?" Hermione asked her fiancé, as he walked out of the kitchen where his weeping mum was. 

He nodded as he sat down next to her on the sofa, eyeing the kitchen of the Burrow resignedly. If he'd have known that _this_ was how his mum would react to the news that Hermione and he were engaged, he would've bloody well owled her instead.

He thought back on the events that had taken place over the course of today:

_FLASHBACK: _

_They'd arrived at the Burrow, nervous, nevertheless excited to give Ron's parents the news. _

_Hermione's parents had smiled knowingly at the pair of them when they'd been round at theirs, taking it in turn to hug their daughter and their soon-to-be son-in-law. _

_Hermione's mum had burst into tears when she had taken her into the kitchen, to interrogate her on Ron's proposal, that's what Hermione had told him anyway. While, he and Hermione's father had sat in the living room, finishing off their tea. It had been a few minutes since the ladies had made a hurried exit, before her father, and well now his father (by marriage, once he and Hermione got married) spoke: "Take care of my little girl will you?" _

_He'd simply sat, looking at the older gentleman, tea cup suspended in the air along with his arm, as its owner was apparently immobile, for the moment at least. Silence swept over the room. Ron _had_ asked her father for permission to ask for his daughters hand in marriage, but he hadn't really said much else to him other than, 'good luck and yes, you have my blessing.' _

_At last, he nodded his head, not trusting his voice, as he was certain, right now; it was bound to be an octave higher than it should be. _

_Mr. Granger simply smiled at him, nodding his head, as if he too were agreeing, with what, Ron wasn't entirely sure. _

_Five minutes later, Hermione had emerged from the kitchen, looking a little tired, as she told Ron they'd best be off if they were going to his mum's as well. _

_With their goodbyes said, they were off with a small pop. _

_

* * *

_

_They'd arrived just outside the Burrow, and walked into the kitchen, where his mum had been bustling about, her wand waving in one hand, and a small dish-towel in her other. _

_"Ron! Hermione!" she'd positively shrieked upon seeing them, smiling amiably as she beckoned them into the house. _

_He smiled at his mum, as he eyed Hermione, who nodded in agreement to his silent question as to whether or not they should tell her now or later. Now, thinking back on it, he seriously wished she'd opted for the, 'later,' option. _

_Putting his arm around his fiancée, he looked at his mum who was now looking at them, eyeing them both curiously. _

_"Mum, we've got something to tell you." _

_Ron, couldn't help but notice his mother's kind eyes flicker ever so quickly from his face to Hermione's, and then to her stomach. _

_Hermione, it seemed, noticed too, as she was quick to speak up, "No, _no_, Mrs. Weasley, not _that_… Ron and I, well… were engaged." She told her, showing her, her left hand which held a beautifully cut diamond ring for further proof that this wasn't a joke. _

_Mrs. Weasley, to say the least looked stunned, as her dish-towel and wand both fell from her grasp as her hands clapped over her mouth and a small, gasp emanated from her lips. Then, in a flash, she had all but leaped over to Hermione, and caught her in a bone crushing hug. (If only it was an exaggeration.) _

_Tears were pouring down her face as she clasped onto Hermione, hugging her even tighter, telling her to call her, "Mum," and, "Welcome to the family!" and things like, "I knew this would happen dear! Are you hungry? Oh, I'm so happy!" _

_He smiled as he watched the scene before him, until he noticed that Hermione seemed to be turning a slight bit pale in color. _

_"Mum! Maybe you should let go…" He told her, trying desperately to pry her death grip off of Hermione. He succeeded, kind of, she let go of Hermione, only to latch onto him, mumbling things, a little less than coherent now that she was sobbing freely. _

_Hermione looked terrified, as she rubbed her arms, shaking them slightly, trying to get back the feeling in them. She winced slightly as she accidentally hit her rib whilst shaking her hand. _

_"MUM! Let go! I-can't-flipping-breathe-MUM!" he yelled between breaths, as his father ran into the room, his pleasant eyes, taking in the scene before him immediately. _

_Quickly, he was at his wife's side, trying his hardest to coax her into letting her son go. "What did you do?" He asked Ron, rubbing his wife's back soothingly. _

_"Their getting married Arthur! Isn't that lovely?" She all but shouted through her incessant sobs. _

_"You are!? Hermione! Oh congratulations…" But he was cut off as Ron began coughing, or rather squeaking as his mother pulled him even closer. _

_"Molly dear, perhaps you should let him go… at least let him live to get married, yeah? Otherwise, all this congratulations would have all been pointless, wouldn't it have been?" He asked her kindly, rubbing her arm. Turning towards Hermione he spoke, "Hermione, why don't you go have a seat in the living room, this may take a while." _

_She nodded, and she walked away. _

_After what seemed like hours, his father had finally been able to convince his mum to let go off him, and had in turn turned to his father. _

_His father had merely waved him away, mouthing: "I'll be fine." _

_END FLASHBACK _

* * *

And now here they were, sitting on the sofa, listening to his mum's sobs calming gradually in the kitchen, as Mr. Weasley spoke comfortingly, soothingly to her. 

"You'd think she'd be happy. Not crying, I wonder if she did that to Harry and Ginny. How're your ribs?" He asked her earnestly.

She smiled a small smile as she played with a loose thread on the couch. "They'll be fine, but I must say, your mother is quite strong. And you're mum… she's simply happy… my mum was nearly in hysterics when I told her how you proposed to me."

He smiled at the thought. It was one time, in the handful of times in his life, that he'd finally done something right. He couldn't help but feel a teensy bit proud.

Minutes later, a weary looking Mr. Weasley, and a tear-stained Mrs. Weasley entered the living room. Mrs. Weasley looked like she was a ticking time bomb, ready to burst into tears at the drop of hat, but with Mr. Weasley's calming arm around her, the two occupants on the couch were somewhat at ease that she wouldn't.

"Hermione dear, I'm so happy! Ron, you… my boy… getting married, I'm so happy! You _finally_ asked her to marry you, oh we'll have to get together for dinner soon, I'll invite the whole family and Hermione you'll absolutely _have _to invite your parents. I'd love to see them again! Wonderful people they are, with an absolutely beautiful daughter! Oh Arthur, they're getting married!" She exclaimed looking at her husband with a wondrous expression set upon her features.

He simply smiled down at his wife, pulling her a little tighter against his side. Returning his gaze to the two young adults sitting on the couch, jaws loose as they were still staring at Mrs. Weasley. Noticing this, he cleared his throat rather loudly, gaining the attention of all three of them. "Congratulations to you both!" He said cheerfully, smiling at his son proudly. Finally, he dropped his arm from around his wife's shoulders as he moved forward to engulf them both in hugs, although, not nearly as painful as Mrs. Weasley's. "Hermione, welcome to the family, I'm glad he finally got up the nerve to ask you to marry him!" He told her, jerking his head towards his son. "You absolutely _must _invite your parents. I'd love to talk to them; they're fascinating people, aren't they. They promised that next time we met; they'd tell me all about dentistry, was it? Intriguing isn't it, that a piece of _wire_ can fix your teeth! I can't wait to see them again, it's been _too _long!" Mr. Weasley told her, animatedly, all but jumping up and down, clapping his hands merrily. Needless to say, he was excited.

"Oh Ron, Hermione, you'll have to excuse me, I've got to start owling everyone! I'll owl you and tell you when to come for dinner! Oh Hermione, we'll have to get together and start planning soon, we'll get the girls together, your mum, Ginny, Fleur… we'll plan a beautiful wedding won't we?" Quickly, the short plump woman rushed forward, engulfing Hermione in a warm hug, before she pulled back and gave her a kiss on the cheek. She did the same to Ron, earning a loud and clearly embarrassed, "Oh Mum!" before she bustled off, her excitement positively radiating off of her.

"Right then… Well, good luck with _her_ dad. We'd best be off." Ron told his father, looking after his retreating mother's back. He could've sworn he'd heard her humming some sort of wedding-y song, well at least he thought it was.

His father simply smiled a warm smile at the both of them before speaking. "Oh, we'll be fine. Although, next time you've got big news Ron, a bit of warning would be lovely yeah? It's much easier to console your mother when she's not got her arms wrapped 'round her sons' neck." Mr. Weasley told his youngest son seriously.

Ron scratched the back of his neck at this.

Quickly they said goodbye to Mr. Weasley, who gave them both a hug, and asked Hermione to tell her parents that he said, "Hello, and that he looked forward to seeing them again."

She told him she'd convey the message, and with a pop they were back inside their flat.

* * *

"Home at last." Ron exclaimed as their feet touched the floor. 

She simply nodded at him, as she began to walk towards the stairs. "I'm off to take a shower," she told him, before he could open his mouth to inquire anything.

He stared after her for a moment, before he sauntered into the kitchen, looking to fix them both, some hearty chicken soup, there was _nothing_ better for the soul after all, and perhaps their injuries. Quickly, the soup was bubbling away on the stove, filling the house with its delectable aroma. _'Thank Merlin he made his mum teach him how to cook.' _He wordlessly reflected, as he turned towards the counter, to prepare the sandwiches.

Thirty minutes later, he was finished. Everything was plated up nicely. He put two bowls filled with the steaming soup on the wooden tray, covering them both with their lids. He eased the plate of sandwiches between, and levitated them before him, in search of his future wife.

Minutes later, he found her, sitting near the roaring fireplace. Her hair was still wet, and somewhat tame. A book was sitting in her hands, her quick-thinking eyes scanning the same page repeatedly, as her mind was elsewhere, although, to him, it just looked like she'd had her nose stuck in yet another book.

Ron was now concerned, no one had ever smelt his soup, and not at least turned around to acknowledge him.

Something was obviously wrong. Had he pissed her off? Quickly he jogged his memory, trying hard to think of whether or not he'd done something to vex her. Coming up empty, he did the next best thing he could think of, he asked her: "Hermione… erm, do you want some soup?" He asked her, still a little unsure of himself.

Her answer was quiet: "No."

"Are you alright?" He asked her, taking a few steps closer to her seated form, then realization dawned on him, well at least, he _thought_ it did: "OH!" He cried, rather loudly, drawing it out for a moment before he began telling her of his _brilliant _theory. "Is this… a _girl _thing?" In his mind, that could be the only explanation of her hot to cold behavior, not to mention the fact that she had seconds before, turned down _his_, Molly Weasley-original-recipe soup.

As it turned out however, he was sorely off beam as she whipped her head around with a force that worried Ron immensely. _'She could've bloody well broken her neck.' _He thought to himself, thinking twice before saying it out loud.

"No, it isn't a _girl _thing Ronald," as she stood up. "I just don't want any soup. Just because your bleeding ring is on my finger, does _not_ mean you own me Ronald Weasley, I can bloody well do as I please." She told him, taking a step closer to him with each word, a murderous look ablaze in her chocolate eyes.

Ron's half-hearted grin immediately fell at her words, as his temper rose along with the red color in his cheeks and ears. He hadn't meant to upset her, and what the hell did her engagement ring have to do with anything? "What the hell are you talking about?"

"NOTHING!" she screamed back at him, causing confusion to erupt within him.

It was the only thing that made sense to him now. His eyes were hard as he spoke, looking past her, unable to look at her right now. "Do you – do you not want to marry me?" He asked her, in a small, lifeless voice that was so unlike his own.

In that moment, just _thinking_ that she didn't want him, just the _thought_ that she wanted out of the engagement, of _them_, it killed him. It felt like everything they'd gone through, all of it, it had all been insignificant, stupid. _'Maybe, that's what she'd meant when she was talking about the future… maybe she'd meant that it was time for a change or something.' _

He steeled himself for her reply. His fists were clenched tightly at his side as he waited for her to admit to him that, she did _not_ in fact want to get married to him, that she'd simply gotten caught up in the moment, that she'd finally realized that this had all been one big mistake. That being with him from the very start had been a mistake.

Then he heard her: "_No_, how could you think that? Ron… I love you, you _know_ that. I just…" She started, but all he could hear was that she _still _loved him, that she still wanted to be with him. "I'm just scared, yeah? I don't know it's stupid really… Let's just drop it, shall we?" She tried, not wanting to admit the thoughts she'd been thinking for the past few days.

_

* * *

'But, that stupid, stubborn as-a-mule boy wouldn't let it bloody drop,'_ she thought as he tried to convince her to tell him what was wrong. "Hermione, it has to be important if it's got your knickers all up in a bunch, so tell me, what's going on?" He said, shooting her a tiny smile with his lips, but his eyes told her, that he was being serious. 

"Why don't we just go eat? I'm suddenly feeling very hungry." She told him, starting to move towards the tray he'd brought, but his hand, too fast for her, shot out and lightly grabbed her wrist, stopping her.

"If you _do _want to marry me, then what's going on? You're not pregnant are you? I think your dad and my mum would murder me, were not even married yet." He said, looking at her wide-eyed. Sure she'd told Mrs. Weasley she wasn't pregnant today, but he had to be sure.

"Oh honestly Ronald, I'm not pregnant! Just let it go will you?"

"Fine," he said finally, letting go of her wrist as he moved to walk out of the room.

She sighed, "Oh don't be such a child!" she said exasperatedly as she watched him take another step to leave the room. Something inside of her snapped at that moment, seeing him walking away from her, bringing back cruel memories from that night so long ago that she so desperately wished she could forget, but she couldn't. And before she could even try to stop herself, the thoughts that had been tossing themselves around inside her head, spilled out of her mouth: "Fine then, go on leave, that's what your best at, isn't it?" She breathed, barely loud enough for him to hear, but from the way he stopped, dead in his tracks, standing up just a bit straighter, she knew he'd heard her.

He turned around to face her, his face pale: "_That's _what _this_," he said, motioning between them, "is about?"

She nodded, there was no sense denying it now, she couldn't take it back, and if she was honest with herself, she didn't want to.

In two swift steps he was in front of her. He raked a shaking hand through his hair as he looked down at her, trying desperately to think of something to say. How could she think that he would leave her, _again_? The first time, he'd been stupid, selfish, and just an all around idiot. He couldn't make that same mistake twice, he wouldn't. He'd promised himself that many years ago.

He opened his mouth to speak, but nothing was coming out, he didn't know what to say. His jaw hung open for a moment or two, before he snapped it shut.

"I told you it was…" She said finally, looking up at him.

His voice seemed to choose that moment to return, thankfully and he spoke in a quiet, gentle, but sad tone: "No, you're right. I _did _leave before. I regret it. You have to know that. You have to understand, that it wasn't just _me_, it was that locket Hermione… it did things to me, it made everything ten times worse. I was stupid," he told her, looking at her with wide eyes, emotions filling them. "There wasn't a day that I didn't want to come back, that I didn't regret leaving, what if something had happened to you, to Harry? It would've been my fault that I was too big of a prat to stick it out with you two. I meant what I said Hermione, I _want_ to marry you, be with you, you know? I'm not going to leave you, I promise you that. You're stuck with me." He said, flashing a quick grin.

She nodded at him, giving him a watery smile as she wrapped her arms around his neck, and hugged him tightly to her.

"OW!" He screeched. "Sorry… mum did a number on my neck." He told her, rubbing the back of his neck gingerly.

She smiled at him.

"Let's eat." She said to him, laughing as his eyes brightened considerably at the prospect of food.

Some things would never change, and for that, she had to admit, she was grateful.

**

* * *

AN:** Well here we are again, another chapter completed. Thoughts, opinions, loved it, hated it – let me know please and thank you! And also, thank you very much for reading – that alone is appreciated! 

The next chapter will be the last. It'll be all about the wedding.

**-angel6**


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